In A Position Of Power
by Silvarius
Summary: A series of drabbles centering around Dethklok's manager, Charles Foster Ofdensen. Drabble 10 now up, entitled Average Joe, Part 2. Spoilers for Renovation Klok. Charles goes back to his old style.
1. Memory In The Mirror

Drabble #1 - Memory In The Mirror.

Takes place after Black Fire Upon Us. Actually it would take place a long time after that cause we all know what happened in that episode. Little bit of Charles angst.

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Walking into his bathroom, Charles stopped to face himself in the mirror above his sink. What he saw staring back at him was not the man he remembered. Thin wrinkles were forming on his forehead. Tiny crow's feet were beginning at the corners of his bright green eyes. A stray gray hair glinted like steel against his normally chestnut locks. Surely this wasn't the face of a middle aged, successful business man? No, the face in the mirror looked like a weathered old man who had seen too much evil in the world.

He raised his hand to trace a finger along the long red scar that he now wore on his left cheek, suppressing a shudder at the memory the scar provoked. That memory was the only reason he was awake at this hour. Why he still carried the scar, he didn't know. It wasn't like he didn't have the money to pay for plastic surgery. Maybe it was personal. Maybe it was to remind him exactly what it was he was supposed to be doing. Protecting Dethklok. Protecting his boys.

His boys. That thought made him smile inwardly. That's what he had come to know them as. The band members of Dethklok now felt like family to him. Most men his age were married with kids of their own. Yet here Charles was, 30-something, single, and father to five unruly man-children. And he wouldn't trade it for the world. He had risked everything, including his own life, to protect those men, on numerous occasions, too.

Tearing his gaze from the mirror, Charles splashed some cold water on his face. Perhaps one day these nightmares wouldn't keep controlling his sleeping pattern like this. On his way out, he couldn't help one last glance at the mirror. The face that looked back at him this time was different. This one had a sinister smile on it's face and fire illuminating its eyes. Charles couldn't help but to smile, for he knew what truly lay before him. It was the face of a man who didn't let small things obscure his view of the big picture. It was the face of a person who had a soul duty in life.

It was the face of the real Charles Foster Ofdensen.

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As always, comments and suggestions are welcome. Please read and review.

- Silvarius


	2. A Woman's Touch

Drabble 2 - A Woman's Touch

Takes place during Dethdad where the guys are away in Norway.

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Charles flipped through the channels on the TV. The boys were currently in Norway visiting Toki's father before he passed away, so it was rare he got some down time to relax and do as he pleased. Besides the Dethklok minute and some other news-related stuff, there was nothing but romance dramas on the TV. Once in a while, a sitcom would pop up, but those couldn't hold his interest either. There was nothing funny about life, so why should people portray it as such.

He stopped on one show where the incredibly hot female lead was kissing the male lead. Or so it seemed; he had never seen, nor heard of this show before. The intense lip lock they were so immersed in was unreal, almost like they were trying to suck the other's lips off. No one would ever do that in real life, Charles thought.

It also made him wonder. How long had it been since he had been with a woman? Maybe there were some new things he was unaware of. Charles was certainly no virgin, especially with all the women he dated in high school and college (especially college). But ever since becoming manager for Dethklok, he hadn't the time to engage in relationships. Besides with all of his focus and energy on the band, a relationship could be the death of him, make him lower his guard. Certainly something he could not afford to do.

With a heavy sigh, Charles changed the channel and found ultimate fighting. Now this was something he could watch.

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As always, let me know what you think. Next one should be up shortly.

- Silvarius


	3. I, Robot

Drabble 3 - I, Robot

Charles's thoughts during Black Fire Upon Us. Probably the shortest one of these I'll ever write, too.

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The thick, dark fluid of life flowed from the numerous wounds he had received. Tonight was a potentially fatal error, he had let his guard down and had actually allowed himself to be overcome. If only he could have cracked a grin at the thought, but his face was too badly swollen to do so. Instead he simply lay there, trying to not give in to unconsciousness.

He could hear the boy's collective gasps. Charles couldn't see them, but he knew they were close by. These very same boys who not long ago had called him a robot. Now they got to see him or what he really was . . . a real person. A robot wouldn't have made his careless mistakes. A robot would never have lost control of the situation. Most importantly, a robot wouldn't bleed.

Yet his blood was just like theirs. Slowly pooling on the ground beneath him. The paradox amused him. Sometimes a little bloodshed helped to reveal a person for what they really were. This night proved that the boys could take care of themselves. In Charles case, it proved that he was only human. A human with not much time left in the world.

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Please read and review. Not sure about when the next one will be up.

- Silvarius


	4. The Boy Next Door

Drabble #4 - The Boy Next Door

No spoilers. Just my attempt at giving Charles some backstory. Let me know what you think. Italics are part of Charles's memory.

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"_Charlie!" A little girl with blond pigtails came running up to a boy with brown hair and glasses. When she got close enough, she tackled him to the ground and hugged him._

"_Hi yourself." The boy managed to gasp out while hitting the ground, the air knocked out of him._

"_I missed you. I haven't seen you in a while." She grabbed his glasses that were laying in the grass next to them and put them on her own face. "How can you stand these things?"_

_The boy laughed, " I need them to see." _

"_Oh." Was all she said before handing them back to him._

"_You wanna go over to the playground? My mommy said I could go." _

_He replied, "I can't. I got to finish unpacking. Maybe later my mom will let me go?"_

_As if on cue, a woman yelled from his front door. "Charles! Get in here, now! You can play with your friends later."_

_A frown appeared on his face as he called back, "Coming mom!" Turning back to the girl, "I'm sorry. I'll see you later?"_

_Her bright smile reflected the sunlight beaming down on them. "Sure. See you later, Charlie." She turned and skipped away back to her house next door._

_Little did he know that he would never see her again._

Since then, Charles had really never engaged in friendships. Acquaintances were a different story. But friends would just get torn away from him . . . like her. The little girl that lived next door to him as a child. The little girl who would laugh and smile and who had genuinely cared for him. The only one who had ever called him Charlie.

He raised the glass of brandy in the air, then tipped it back into his mouth, emptying the glass. It was his tribute to her. Every year on the date he last saw her alive, he made a toast to her. To the little girl who never really had a name, but had died a gruesome and brutal death that night at the hands of her parents. The smile on her face being sliced off and left in a pool of blood.

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Seriously, let me know what you think. I'm not really going to go down this route that often unless people like it. Read and review.

- Silvarius


	5. Average Joe

Drabble 5 - Average Joe

I figure, we get to see the boys in other clothes, so why not Charles? Here's my take on it.

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It was extremely rare for him to ever wear casual clothes. His closet seemed full of suits, slacks, and ties (preferably red ones). In the very back, hidden under some extra blankets were a few t-shirts and jeans. He kept them hidden because they were foreign objects to him, he couldn't even bear to look at them half the time. Average Joes wore them on their days off , usually while having barbeques or doing handyman work, the kind of stuff that Charles despised. He had people for those kinds of things. All he ever focused on was Dethklok, and to do that required him to wear a suit, to act like a business professional.

He grabbed a dark green t-shirt at the bottom of the pile and put it on, tucking the overhang into the jeans he also donned. Looking into the full-length mirror on the door, Charles noticed how the clothes clung tightly to his skin, showing off his impressive physique. For being a small guy, his muscles were well-defined. The green matched nicely with his chestnut hair and eyes, giving him a real earthy look. The jeans hung loose, but not so much that they fell off his hips. A brown leather belt completed the ensemble.

The outfit went against everything he represented, going from businessman to suburban man with the simple change in style. A quick swipe with a comb and his hair was different too, hanging down instead of being slicked back as usual. The end result was a much younger looking Charles. Maybe for today he could just be Charlie? Maybe for one day he could escape the responsibilities of being a manager for the world's biggest metal band? Maybe, maybe not.

Before leaving the room, Charles took off his glasses and placed them on his nightstand, quickly replacing them with contacts. Now his transformation was complete. With a small smile on his face, he left the room to go surprise the boys . . . that's if they even recognized him at all.

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Read and review.

- Silvarius


	6. His Boys

Something I wrote when I was bored at work. I'm not into slash but I really like the idea of Charles and Pickles being friends (I think I said that before in some fics). For this fic though, I tried to focus attention on him and the boys as a whole, not just him and Pickles. I try not to tread the slash line, but I come close. So let me know what you think.

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"You know that, uh, excessive drinking is, uh, bad for your health." Charles's sentence trailed off, for he noticed that Pickles had nodded off.

The manager had called the drummer into his office to try to talk some sense into him. Ever since he had seen the report on the Dethklok Minute, Charles had become concerned, both for the image he was creating for the rest of the band, and for the well-being of the alcoholic himself.

Personally, he cared a lot about the man currently passed out in his office, hell he cared for all of the boys. But he always had a soft spot for Pickles. They were both around the same age, even though they thought the red-head was younger than he looked. They had both seen first-hand the rise and fall of the music generations (including the hair-bands of the 80's such as Snakes and Barrels and the 90's boy-band era). Now here they were, working for the world's most brutal, most famous metal band, either as a participant or overseer. Oh how times had changed over the decades.

Now Charles was faced with a dilemma. He had a drunk man sound asleep, sitting in one of the chairs in his large office. It wasn't like he could just leave him there. With a heavy sigh, Charles did something he knew his muscles would later regret.

Picking up the heavily snoring drummer in his arms, Charles left the office and traversed the maze-like hallways of Mordhaus, all the while silently praying no one saw them. If anybody were to see this, the CFO's reputation as a emotionally distant, cold hearted robot would be shot to hell. Surprisingly, the man was very light to carry --probably from the fact that he was actually a very small man height-wise and didn't have much muscle mass -- so that made it easier to quickly get to the room he was looking for.

The first thing he noticed what that Pickles bed was messy and his room smelled suspiciously like a certain substance. Mentally cataloging that info for later, Charles gently placed the man into his bed. He removed his sneakers and pulled the covers up to his chest before leaving the room. A soft moan could be heard as the unconscious man rolled over, causing Charles to get to the door more swiftly. Once he shut the door, he couldn't help but to shake his head in amusement. Sometimes they really felt like _his_ boys. Taking care of them was a full-time job, a job he wouldn't trade for the world, he thought as he walked back to his office to get back to work.

On the other side of the door, a man could be seen with a small smile on his face.

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I tried . . .

Please read and review.

- Silvarius


	7. Happy Silent New Year

Drabble #7 - Happy Silent New Year

This came to me the night before New Year's Eve at 1 in the morning. That's all I'm going to say because I'm not fond of this one, but I posted it anyways.

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Five minutes until midnight and already Dethklok was drunk and passed out on the floor in front of the oversized big screen TV. The band members were in various positions and, although one had to wonder how, various states of undress. Charles almost tripped over someone's discarded pants when he first walked in. At least no one was fully naked.

Charles had been on his way to bed before deciding to take a detour. He wanted to wish the guys a Happy New Year, even though to them it was just another day. What he actually had walked in on didn't surprise him in the least. A bunch of heavy drinkers/ borderline alcoholics like them didn't care that tonight was a holiday. To them, it was just another night to get drunk; no different than the night before.

Glancing up at the TV, he noticed that they had left it on the New Year's Eve coverage of Times Square, New York. The giant crystal ball had actually begun to drop. Charles made his way over and pressed the volume pedal, taking it off mute. The chanting crowd counted down the final seconds of the year. Three . . . two . . . one.

"Happy New Year." Charles muttered to himself, secretly wishing that someone would say it back to him.

With a heavy sigh, he turned off the TV just as Auld Lang Sine begun to play. Flicking the lights off, the manager left the boys as they were to sleep off the alcohol. In the back of his mind, the thought occurred to him that he had spent the final moments of the old year the same way he spent the first moments of the new year, in silence.

What he didn't hear just as he was closing the door was the soft, slurred voice of a young drunken guitarist saying back to him, "Happys New Years, Charlies."

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Ugh, not my best one of these. It's been a while though so maybe I'm not back in the groove yet. Let me know what you think.

- Silvarius


	8. Sword Song

Drabble # 8 - Sword Song

Basically, Charles gets angsty. That's about it. Please let me know if there are any typos in this. I'm using a new program and it's hard to tell sometimes. Thanks.

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He took another sip of his beloved brandy that he always kept in his office. It wasn't like he was trying to drown anything out (quite the opposite this night, for he was trying to remember something instead). Trying to remember how exactly he got to this point, or more accurately, how he had managed to keep his life while protecting others. It was proving to be quite elusive. No matter how hard he tried, the memories remained hidden.

On the wall hung his trusty swords, polished & gleaming, next to his college fencing award plaques. Back then, he could take anyone out with a well-placed jab or swipe. In this day & age, however, sword fighting was becoming a lost art. How could it survive though? Not when there were guns and lasers that could kill someone from a distance like a coward. Modern day luxuries that even he had indulged in once or twice. But what ever happened to the good old days where two men challenged each other in hand to hand combat?

That's one thing Charles never wanted to be labeled as -- a coward. He had very commendable fighting skills and could handle his own in a fair fight, but when someone had an assault rifle aimed at you that could turn you into Swiss cheese before you could even raise your fists, how would your skills help you there? Frankly, that fact scared him. Any second of any day could be his last, or worse, Dethklok's last, all thanks to cowards who couldn't manage to kill their enemies face to face. Cowards unlike him.

Charles physically shuddered at the thought. He hoped that one day, he wouldn't have to keep these thoughts in the forefront of his mind, until that day though, he would stay on high alert status, ready for anything. It didn't matter if it required everything he had, he had a job to do regardless.

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Please let me know about this. I'm getting a little rusty on writing. Thanks again.

- Silvarius


	9. The Water God

Drabble #9 - The Water God.

I don't know where this came from. I just liked what I heard of Murmaider II and tried to somehow connect it to Charles. I failed. Takes place after S.2.

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The water was cold, not quite freezing, but cold enough to make him shiver a bit. It didn't help that he was clad only in his boxers either (for he refused to go completely naked). The lights were dimmed in the room & the boys were all out drinking and partying. That left him alone to try a little experiment.

In the in-ground hot tub, the bubbles had stopped, leaving the water completely still and cooling. Slowly, he immersed himself deeper, until he was up to his shoulders. The clear liquid rippled around him, quickly stilling from his lack of movement. The cold was making it hard to breathe, but he pushed that feeling aside and dunked his head underwater.

When he resurfaced, a new kind of shock hit him. His skin felt alive, almost as if small jolts of electricity were running through it. The tingling feeling from the cold covered his entire body. His hair had been released from it's slicked-back prison and now hung down in his face, the drops of water dripping down into his eyes, blinking them away like iced tears. The water rippled out to the edges, finally stilling yet again.

With a small sigh, Charles fell against the side of the hot tub. The energy from his cold dive had now faded and left him feeling slightly weak. The chill was causing him to be short of breath and lightheaded. If he didn't get out soon, he could easily catch hypothermia. So much for his little experiment.

Maybe, in the future, he wouldn't try to become something his boys had sung about in one of their songs. There was no way he was a "water god", more like an ice king.

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Let me know what you think. Can't wait for Dethalbum II and Season 3!

- Silvarius


	10. Average Joe, Part 2

Drabble #10 - Average Joe, Part 2

Charles goes back to his suits and ties. Ties in with the season 3 premiere Renovation Klok.

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His suit jacket seemed foreign to him now, the material scratchy and stiff. He wasn't used to anything tight around his throat anymore, but the shirt had to be buttoned and the tie had to be tied. Eventually, he would get used to it again. It was bad enough he had showed up in a leather jacket and jeans, he couldn't let his boys think he was always going to dress like that. He had an image to maintain within the walls of Mordhaus.

In a way, his suit had become a second skin -- he felt naked without it, exposed for all to see. With the suit, he was Charles Foster Offdensen. For the nine months he went without it, he was merely Charles or Charlie (he shuddered at the nickname). That wasn't him. That was the man he left behind when he became the manager to Dethklok. Someone he had hoped to never have to see or become again.

Now, in the back of his closet in his room at Mordhaus, he buried the leather jacket and jeans. He buried them underneath the t-shirts he had hidden back there. That jacket he despised, it had become a cruel reminder that he wasn't who he thought he was. He couldn't be this casual man who roamed about, gathering any information he could on the true nature of his and Dethklok's existence. Time that could have been spent better protecting the boys from financial ruin. Simply put, he had an empire to run.

He straightened his tie for the umpteenth time. His suit in place, his hair slicked back -- the only thing missing were his glasses. Slowly, he reached into his inner suit pocket and retrieved them. Luckily, he kept a spare pair around. Before placing them in their rightful spot, he stopped. Not yet, his mind screamed, leaving him to wonder why the hesitation.

His mind answered him, his boys needed to see the transformation, that he was truly back to his old self. That their CFO Charles Offdensen was the same man that had appeared after disappearing for nine months, that he was in charge again. It would give everyone a sense of closure.

Charles made a mental note to have a Klokateer burn those clothes -- if only to give _himself_ some closure -- before straightening his tie one last time and seeking out the boys.

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Not much to say about this one. It really makes no sense cause I just wrote what I thought. Please let me know what you think.

- Silvarius


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